The future is true. Don’t believe in a lie, that only today is yours
Your spirit knows the future,
accurately. Stop guessing and
Follow this inward guide.
You could live in the present basking In the future others dream about.
The beauty of life is being able to enjoy the moment by moment experiences and
Still, be able to hold the horn of the future with certainty.
The future shouldn’t be blurry.
It can only be blurry in your soul’s pilgrimage thoughts. Yes, life will be blurry against your reasoning power because all the answers are not there
Caught in the labyrinth of my imagination, I pause. Oh, pilgrim friend, save me from self
Your spirit has no worries of tomorrow, regardless of the impossibilities life brings
Because this inward guide has travelled into the future that scares our common logic
Follow this inward guide. Illuminate your path with clarity, confidence and courage
Nothing is impossible for the spirit. Dimensions and channels of the future is available. No boundaries, no limits when God leads
I pray thee, O
Inward guide, illuminate my darkness, lead me home.
This ain’t the ordinary kind of life. This is found only in the Eternal life
“I have yet many things to say unto you, but ye cannot bear them now. Howbeit when he, the Spirit of truth, is come, he will guide you into all truth: for he shall not speak of himself; but whatsoever he shall hear, that shall he speak: and he will show you things to come.” (John 16:12-13 KJVAE)
Avatar is a record-breaking cult classic. No, not the blockbuster film nor the lamentable movie remake, but the animated TV show that debuted in 2005 and recently resurfaced on Netflix.
Avatar: The Last Airbender is a coming-of-age story about a preteen protagonist (Aang) and his friends who seek to end an ongoing war to restore peace on earth. Along the way, they adventure in a fantasy world and discover themselves. But the antagonist’s character arc is undeniably the best.
Warning: spoilers ahead!
Scarred by Shame
Zuko is a 13-year-old banished from his country by his father (Fire Lord Ozai, king of the Fire Nation) because he dares to speak up against his father’s orders in a war meeting. Zuko may only return from exile and restore his honor under one impossible condition: capture the Avatar (Aang) who has been missing for 100 years. Zuko’s shame is manifested on his face—a glaring burn scar over his left eye from his abusive dad. Though determined to capture the Avatar, Zuko slowly discovers the surprising path he must take to overcome his shame.
The Asia-inspired world of Avatar is the perfect backdrop to highlight honor and shame. Yet shame is universal. Ed Welch defines shame as “that all-too-human experience of worthlessness, failure and not belonging. It can come from what we have done or from what others have done to us.” If guilt tells us we’ve done something bad, shame tells us we are bad, dirty, and unlovable—irredeemably so. Shame shapes our identity and keeps us in hiding (Gen. 2:25; 3:7–8).
If guilt tells us we’ve done something bad, shame tells us we arebad, dirty, and unlovable—irredeemably so.
Like the leper’s spots (Luke 5:12) and the woman’s persistent blood (Luke 8:43), Zuko’s scar is a constant reminder that he is a failure, a disgrace, a shame.
Scars of shame show up all over Scripture. Look for the outcasts—the Hagars, the Leahs, the barren, the lepers, the tax collectors, the poor—and you’ll see that shame is often God’s preferred setting for redemption (Luke 4:18–19; 7:21–22).
Thankfully for Zuko, he doesn’t travel alone. His empathetic, humorous, tea-loving uncle Iroh accompanies him. Iroh gently questions his attitude and decisions, at one point declaring, “Zuko, you must let go of your feelings of shame if you want your anger to go away.”
Iroh is a legendary warrior and the true heir to the Fire Nation throne, but he chooses the disgraced life of a suffering servant to accompany his banished nephew. He reminds us of “the King of glory . . . the LORD, mighty in battle” who became the Suffering Servant, “despised and rejected by men . . . acquainted with grief” (Ps. 24:8; Isa. 53:3).
Yet Zuko’s shame is not easily overcome. At a personal crossroads, Iroh tells Zuko, “You are going through a metamorphosis, my nephew. It will not be a pleasant experience, but when you come out of it, you will be the beautiful prince you were always meant to be.”
Shame is stubborn. It can’t be purged by material success, positive thinking, or self-affirmation. “Release from shame cannot be earned,” Welch observes. “It comes by being connected to someone of infinite worth.”
Zuko’s painful metamorphosis from disgraced prince to beloved son hinges on his association with his honorable but dishonored uncle, rather than with his honored but dishonorable father. But he learns this the hard way.
At a crucial crossroads, Zuko finally corners the Avatar. The chance to restore his honor is within his grasp. But there’s a catch: he has to turn on the only person who ever truly loved him—Iroh. Zuko chooses partnership with his manipulative and murderous sister, Azula, who becomes his advocate before their father. Iroh, in turn, is thrown into prison.
Zuko finally sits at his father’s right hand, but he can’t shake his overwhelming angst. Shame still imprisons him. And when he realizes who he has dishonored, he is wrecked.
At the cross, Jesus was utterly victimized—denied, slandered, abused, abandoned, cursed, and crucified. We can and should see ourselves in Christ’s victimization (Isa. 53:4), but since he bore our sin (1 Pet. 2:24) we must also see ourselves in his victimizers.
We can and should see ourselves in Christ’s victimization, but since he bore our sin we must also see ourselves in his victimizers.
When Zuko witnesses his uncle’s victimization—caused by his own betrayal—he forges a new path toward honor. He forfeits his royalty to join the Avatar and his friends as they wage war against Zuko’s father. First, though, he must find his uncle, who escaped from prison.
In a scene doubtless influenced by the parable of the lost son (Luke 15:11–24), Zuko rehearses his apology before begging for forgiveness. Before he can finish, Uncle Iroh wraps him in a tear-filled embrace and declares, “I was never angry with you. I was sad because I was afraid you’d lost your way.”
With Iroh and his new community, Zuko helps the Avatar win the war. He’s crowned as Fire Lord Zuko. But his scar remains—no longer a symbol of shame but a testament to redemption.
We have scars, too. Is the gospel good-enough news to redeem the scars of our victimizing and our victimization? Christ’s scars shout a resounding, “Yes!” (John 20:27).
There is a reason I never gave up. Because love never gave up on me
Metals are pliable under heat. The wildflower leaps in ethereal appeal; aligned with the sun. The soul is agile and majestic when it mingles with love
Men give up on men, but love do not. Love is not a man. man, he only animates love if he’s acquainted with love. Man in itself is a decay. The best of men is death and corruption; without love. He is fragile and most often than not he acts from the impulse of decay, when love is not his orientation
There is a reason love is patient and kind. Absolutely, nothing under Gods skies makes love pull back and sit over the fence. He goes to war with you, even to the depths of hell, holding your soul in comfort, and in hope, until the fire, his restore is set at your feet to run to where your name is engraved
the reason I’ll never give up in life. I know where love dwells, and I know how to stand under it’s crystalline fountain until my heart is one with all it has to offer
Then there are the carriers of love. There are selfless entities whose pleasure are tied up to how many times they let others in, to drink from their golden cups. their ego dust has been buried under the dust. They do not live for themselves, yet do they not deprive themselves of their share. Their life mission is to live for others as conduits of the ocean.
Personally, Mothers days are one of those special occasions I spiritually connect with single mothers, and all the women who don’t have kids they could call their own. To some women mothers day is a day of misery because it reminds them of their battles with a series of miscarriages, death, and disappointments in pregnancy. This poem is my heartfelt prayer and encouragement to you, who is battling in any of these areas. You are not alone. I honour and celebrate you from the depths of my heart. ➕💚
The voice of the moon:
a constant reminder to you
that you’ve not been left
alone, to stumble in the dark
Give her soft wings to Fly
Give her sunshine to Bloom
The weight of not having to carry
a child she will call her own
who would serenades her heart with
depletes her soul every day,
Give her soft wings to fly
Give her sunshine to bloom
She’d believed in a lie
That she’s not fruitful, that she’s not a mother
No one ever told her she’s the mother of the universe,
and the voice of the moon is a constant reminder,
that she’s not left alone in the dark, to stumble.